MAY'S BIG FASHION MISTAKE

Part 44

Nothing is more delightful than a bit of self-mockery. Although I thought differently about that on Saturday night. Still, I want to share it with you because there's no better entertainment than schadenfreude (like this for example) and besides, I can save you a lot of misery. Let me take you into my umpteenth fashion sacrifice.

It was Saturday night. And it was raining. And I was in a hurry. Those are three not really great ingredients, but I wasn't aware of that at the time. I had had an incredibly fun afternoon with the sale of Mart Visser's shoes. At home, I had exactly half an hour to change and then I would go out to dinner with friends at Mr. Porter in Amsterdam.

“I put on my sequin top from Patrizia Pepe, took my brand new Dolce & Gabbana pumps out of their nest, and chose my new flared jeans to go with it. That last part turned out to be a particularly bad idea…”

I put on my sequin top from Patrizia Pepe, took my brand new Dolce & Gabbana pumps out of their nest, and chose my new flared jeans to go with it. That last part turned out to be a particularly bad idea…

Once downstairs, I realized that my makeup bag was still in the car. And that car was parked quite far away (and thanks neighbors for always taking my spot). It was raining (and thanks Netherlands for this k-climate) and I started to run. Because I always think that nothing is too much for me, I had taken my toiletry bag (and the word ‘bag’ is quite an understatement) along with my daughter's Uggs and their riding caps under my arm.

“I thought it was you,” I heard a neighbor say. “With your sequins and your heels.” I don't know if she meant it kindly or if I heard misunderstanding and a hint of mockery in her voice. If that was the case, I treated her to a delightful moment thirty seconds later.

“A typical case of falling flat. The key to my Renault Captur had suddenly turned into three pieces, I didn't even need to look to know that my knee was open”

Because that cute heel got stuck in that pipe of those oh-so-trendy pants and those sequins slid (with me in them) over the cobblestones of our street. A typical case of falling flat. The key to my Renault Captur had suddenly turned into three pieces, I didn't even need to look to know that my knee was open (do you remember that feeling from back in the square?) and my new Dolce & Gabbana kids both had scraped noses.

While I type this (and that is two days later), I still have a stiff shoulder from the fall and my knee is swollen and blue. Occasionally, I exchange a sad glance with my pink shoes and tell them that it will all be fine again. And the flared jeans? I've put them on the naughty step and they won't be coming out for the time being.